


Surprise!

by PaintingWithWords (paint_with_words)



Series: Gift Exchange Fics [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Don’t copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, M/M, yoisecretsanta2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-22 18:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17064989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paint_with_words/pseuds/PaintingWithWords
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri are given different assignments for their competitions leading up the the Grand Prix.  Viktor finds it hard to be apart from his fiancé, but Yuuri finds a way to make it all work out in the end.





	Surprise!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jumpforjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpforjo/gifts).



> This story was written as part of the YOI Secret Santa 2018 event for [JumpForJo](https://jumpforjo.tumblr.com/). I hope you enjoy it!

When the placements for the year’s figure skating competitions were announced, Viktor had been excited.  He hoped that he and Yuuri would have at least one event where they competed against one another.  But, as luck would have it, they didn’t share a single one.  He would be going to the Cup of China and Rostelecom.  Yuuri had drawn Skate America and the NKH Trophy.  

Viktor allowed himself a moment to be disappointed.  He wanted to skate on the same ice as Yuuri!  He wanted to show the world that he could do the impossible; coach and compete at the same time.  The fact that they didn’t compete against each other was going to make it even harder on Viktor.  He’d have to go to four separate events, either as a competitor or as a coach.  That meant that a lot of time he should spend training would instead be spent travelling.  He quickly hid his concerns and his displeasure behind a forced smile.  Yuuri, however, saw right through it.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said, taking his hand.  “I hoped we’d get all of them together.  I’m really upset that we didn’t get any.”  Yuuri looked at him, concern evident in his soft gaze. 

“It’ll be alright,” Viktor replied, giving Yuuri’s hand a little squeeze.  If he said it enough times, maybe he could make himself believe it. ~~~~

Even though it was supposed to be random, Viktor couldn’t help but wonder if the assignments were by design.  Was the ISU out to get him?  Was he being punished for his year off, for daring to coach as well as compete?  If this was the case, then so be it: he’d gladly take the punishment if it meant he got to be with Yuuri.  But he’d be damned if he let Yuuri see how much it took out of him.

And it took a lot out of him.  It was so much harder than he thought it would be, on both a mental and physical level.  Despite his exhaustion, he’d never been happier in his life.  He had Yuuri- his sweet, wonderful Yuuri- by his side.  That made it all worthwhile.

Yuuri competed first at Skate America and won silver, narrowly edged out of the gold by JJ.  Less than a week later, Viktor was on a plane heading to Beijing with Yakov and Georgi.  Yuuri stayed behind in Saint Petersburg with Makkachin.  Since Yuuri wasn’t competing, there was no need for him to go and it was better for Makkachin to stay home instead of going to a kennel.

Logically, they both knew it was the right thing to do.  But Viktor felt so incredibly alone without Yuuri there.  He felt Yuuri’s absence keenly.  They sent texts and facetimed, but it just wasn’t the same.

Viktor brought home the gold, as expected, but it was closer than he liked to admit and he felt the jarring ache of every landing in his bones.  For the first time in a very long time, Viktor began to doubt himself.  Could he still do this?  Had he taken on too much?

He barely got home before it seemed like it was time to board another plane and fly with Yuuri to Japan for the NKH Trophy.  When Yuuri stepped on the ice in Hiroshima, the crowds went wild.  Viktor knew he was feeling the pressure, but the outpouring of love from the people in his home country bolstered Yuuri’s confidence.  Yuuri’s free skate was clean and this time, the gold was his.  So was a placement in the Grand Prix.  Viktor couldn't help but be proud.

A little over a week later, it was Viktor’s turn to compete again, this time in Moscow for the Rostelecom Cup.  Viktor was thankful that this was the last competition on the road to the Grand Prix.  He was also glad that it was a relatively short flight, but anything would have seemed short after the seventeen hours they spent in transit each way between Saint Petersburg and Hiroshima.  Once again, Yuuri stayed home with Makkachin and continued training.  And once again, Viktor missed Yuuri terribly.

Viktor easily took first after the short program, beating out Chris and Yuri.  Chris had been making noise about retiring after this season, but he was bound and determined to make it to the Grand Prix one more time.  Viktor certainly hoped he would.  It wouldn’t be the same without his dearest friend there.

That night, he facetimed with Yuuri and Makkachin and they talked about his performance.  Yuuri was excited and happy that he’d done so well, but it was obvious that he missed actually being there with Viktor just as much as Viktor missed having him there.  Even Makka seemed a little down, sniffing at the screen and whimpering.  Yuuri signed off early, saying that Viktor needed to rest for tomorrow’s free skate.

It took hours for Viktor to finally fall asleep.  The bed was too big without Yuuri.

Half an hour before they were due to leave for the rink, someone pounded impatiently on Viktor’s door.  He shook his head, knowing it had to be Yuri.  No one else would be so endearingly rude.

“You need to hurry up, old man,” Yuri muttered as he walked into his room, hands shoved in the pockets of his ever-present hoodie. 

“What’s the rush?” Viktor said, going back to the restroom to finish his hair.  “We still have plenty of time before we’re due on the ice.”

In the bedroom, Yuri paced back and forth, a nervous ball of energy unable to sit still. 

“Yakov wants us there early,” he barked.  Viktor sighed.  Yakov was getting old, Yuri was anxious about being in third, and he missed Yuuri.  He took one last look at himself in the mirror, pulled out his phone, and snapped a quick selfie.  He texted it to Yuuri, grabbed his things, and headed down the hall with Yuri to Yakov’s room.

The ride over was tense.  Yuri was on edge the whole time and Yakov was grumpy.  Nothing out of the ordinary, really, but it still grated on him.  But what really bothered Viktor the most was that he hadn’t heard back from Yuuri.  Normally, he responded to texts almost immediately.

Sighing, Viktor called Yuuri, but the call went straight to voicemail.  Was Yuuri’s phone off?  Certainly he knew that he would try to reach him before he skated.  They’d texted one another just a couple of hours ago-

“Would you quit messing with your damn phone, Viktor?” Yuri snapped.  “Who cares what all your fans are saying about your stupid comeback.”

“I was actually trying to reach Yuuri,” he shot back. “I sent him a text a little while ago, but I haven’t heard back from him.”  He didn’t want to worry, but this silence was uncharacteristic for Yuuri.

“Stupid pig probably forgot to charge his phone or something,” Yuri snorted, scrolling through his own phone. 

Yuri could be right.  It was possible that Yuuri’s battery had died.  He did occasionally forget to charge it.  Well, there was nothing he could do from here.  Viktor slipped his phone back in his pocket and looked out the window, mentally preparing himself for his upcoming performance.

When they got to the rink, Yuri discovered that his lip balm wasn’t in his jacket pocket and neither was his room key. 

“I had them when I went to your room,” Yuri fussed.  “They must have fallen out while I was there.”

“You can use mine, if you wish,” Viktor offered.

“Gross,” Yuri muttered.  “Who wants your old man germs?”

Yakov sighed, put his phone away, and asked Viktor for his room key so he could go back and get Yuri’s things. 

“You know how these things are,” Yakov said.  “Yura’s young and nervous.  Having his own things will help to calm him down.”

Viktor handed his room key over to Yakov without a second thought.  He pulled out his phone and sighed.  Still nothing from Yuuri. 

While Yakov was gone, Otabek came over to chat with Yuri.  They sat down side by side together, leaning in close.  Viktor saw Otabek hand a tube of lip balm to Yuri, which he used and gave back.  Viktor smirked.  So, it seemed that he didn’t mind _Otabek’s_ germs.  Yakov had gone all the way back to the hotel for nothing.

A few minutes before his free skate, Viktor asked Yuri to try to reach Yuuri for him.   Yuri looked at him like he was an idiot.

“Katsuki said he was having problems with his phone,” Yakov provided, patting him on the shoulder.  “Don’t worry about it now, Vitya.  Go out and skate.”

Viktor nodded his head and sighed.  Phone problems couldn’t be helped, but why did Yakov know this?  Why hadn’t Yuuri told him?  No matter.  Viktor pushed the thought from his mind, handed Yakov the guards off his blades, and took to the ice.

He skated a clean program and won the gold, as well as a spot in the Grand Prix in a month.  Not that anyone was really surprised- he was _still_ a living legend, after all.   Chris took silver and Yuri rounded out the podium.  He was pissy, but that was typical for Yuri.  Chris groused about placing second, but they both knew he was headed to the Grand Prix.  Yuri had one more competition in Montreal, where he would face off against JJ.  Viktor wished him well.

Viktor headed back to his room, happy that he'd won, but it felt a little hollow.  He wanted to share the moment with Yuuri!  On a whim, he texted Yuuri again, hoping he wasn’t still having issues with his phone.  This time, he received an immediate answer.

 **You were wonderful, V** **itya!  I knew you’d win the gold!**  Yuuri texted, following it up with a whole string of heart and kissy face emojis.  

Smiling, Viktor slowly walked back to his room, key card in hand, texting Yuuri as he made his way down the hall.  He hit send right outside the door to his room.  Almost immediately, he heard a noise from behind the door.  Viktor blinked. 

 _That sounded like Yuuri’s text alert_ , he thought, slipping the key card into the lock.

As the lock clicked, he heard the familiar jingle of Makkachin’s tags on her collar.  Heart racing, Viktor moved to push the door open when it was opened from within.  Viktor looked up to see Yuuri and Makkachin standing in his room.

“Surprise!” Yuuri said with an embarrassed little smile.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathed as Makkachin trotted forward and nudged his legs.  “Oh, my sweet Yuuri, what are you doing here?”  They were supposed to be in Saint Petersburg, supporting him from home, not here in his room in Moscow.

“I- I missed you,” Yuuri said simply.  “I wanted to see you, so I booked a flight.  I got in about an hour ago.”

Viktor took Yuuri in his arms and kissed the thick crown of his dark hair.  He’d missed Yuuri so much and he was glad, so very glad, to see him. 

“Yakov and Yuri helped me out,” Yuuri said as Viktor released him and stepped inside, the door closing behind him.  “Yuri said he left his key here and Yakov got yours so he could let us in.”

Viktor huffed out a laugh as they sat down on the foot of the bed.  Now it all made sense.  Yuri leaving his lip balm and his key in his room, Yakov volunteering to go get them for him, Yakov saying that Yuuri was having problems with his phone...  He owed them all a big thank you when they got home.

“I hope you’re not too upset,” Yuuri said, nerves beginning to override his excitement.  “I know you don’t want Makka flying a lot any more, but there was no way I could leave her at home-”

Viktor silenced Yuuri with a kiss.

“Of course I’m not upset!” he said.  “I really missed you and I’m glad you surprised me.” 

Yuuri reached out and took Viktor’s hands.  “I was thinking that maybe next year, if we don't get any events together... since you have to come with me to all of my competitions, why don’t I go with you to yours?   You need the support, too.”

“That’s a lot of traveling for you,” Viktor murmured.  “You don’t handle jetlag well.”

“So?” Yuuri replied, determined.  “I want to be with you, Vitya, no matter where you are.  I won’t take no for an answer.  Mila and Georgi have both already offered to keep Makkachin for us.”

Viktor smiled and leaned in, resting his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“So, it seems you’ve thought of everything,” he said appreciatively. “Tell me, have you thought about dinner?”

Yuuri looked up into his eyes and smiled.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” he said.  “I made you katsudon and brought it with me.  It’s in the minifridge.  I can heat it up-”

“Wait, you made me katsudon and brought it _here_?  With you?” Viktor exclaimed.  “But that’s reserved for when we win medals-”

“Yes.  And you won.”

“But you didn’t know ahead of time-”

“Vitya,” Yuuri gently admonished, “in case you’ve forgotten, you’re _Viktor Nikiforov_ , the living legend of figure skating.”  He took both of Viktor’s hands in his and kissed them.  “There was no way you weren’t going to win.”

Viktor took Yuuri in his arms and hugged him tightly.  No one had ever cared for him as much as Yuuri had.  No one had even believed in him as much.  And Viktor was lucky enough to get to call him his fiancé.  He kissed Yuuri and sighed.  Life was good.

“Go clean up and I’ll heat it up, okay?”

When Viktor got out of the shower, he found that Yuuri had two containers ready for them.  The first one had his katsudon, but the other had chicken and sautéed greens.  Makkachin was by the bed, digging into her bowl. 

“Where's your katsudon,” Viktor asked as he leaned against the pillows.

“I wasn’t competing,” Yuuri replied, taking a bite of his chicken.  “Katsudon’s only for when you win a medal.  I can’t win if I’m not participating in the event.”

“At least eat one bite,” Viktor said, “for me.”  He held out a single strip in his chopsticks in front of Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled, leaned forward, and took the offered bite. 

After they were done, Yuuri collected the containers, washed them out in the bathroom sink, and put them back in his carry-on.  Viktor leaned against him, content.

“It’s too bad we didn’t plan this better,” Viktor said, hiding a yawn behind his hand.  “We could have switched roles and skated ‘Stammi Vicino’ for the exhibition.” 

“I brought my skates with me,” Yuuri replied, a smile in his voice.  “And our costumes.  You know, just in case.” 

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand and kissed it.  This was going to be the best surprise possible for the crowds tomorrow. 

“Oh, my Yuuri, you thought of everything,” he said sleepily.  Makkachin jumped up on the bed and lay down beside him, resting her head on his thigh.

Yuuri didn’t answer.  He ran his fingers through Viktor’s hair and placed a small kiss on top of his head.

“Get some rest, Vitya,” Yuuri murmured.  “You’ve earned it.”

Viktor fell asleep in Yuuri’s arms, lulled by the steady, soft beat of his fiancé’s heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I'm still on [Tumblr](https://paintingwithwords.tumblr.com/), but you can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/PaintWithW0rds/)...


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